


If I Have Things You Need to Borrow

by Swordy



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Explicit Language, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swordy/pseuds/Swordy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny’s knee injury has worsened but Steve thinks he’s not getting the whole story about what they can do to fix it. Set mid Season 1, AU because it’s an alternative take on how they catch Victor Hesse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Have Things You Need to Borrow

**Author's Note:**

> Bad language, shameless bromance. Feel free to imagine it’s pre-slash Steve/Danno if it makes you happy!
> 
> The title is a line from the Bill Withers classic ‘Lean On Me’.

Steve McGarrett’s intuitiveness and razor-sharp powers of observation are fifty percent good breeding and fifty percent SEAL training so it’s fair to say that very little gets past him. Obviously his skills are not required the first time he is made aware of his partner’s injured knee - the sudden introduction of a cane and general knee-related bitching are a dead giveaway - but as time has gone on and despite Danny’s assurances that all is now fine Steve is not convinced that the cane should have been allowed to take early retirement.

So he has started watching Danny closely and, as stakeouts go, it isn’t long before he is rewarded with the necessary evidence to make his accusations stick. At first it’s subtle things: Danny massaging his knee when he thinks his partner is concentrating on driving – hell, _letting_ Steve drive without complaining about how he rarely is allowed the opportunity to get behind the wheel of his own car is a big clue in itself. The final straw comes when they are at HQ and Kono receives a call to say a suspect in their most pressing case has surfaced. She notes down the location, thanks the HPD officer and hangs up.

Watching over her shoulder as she writes, Chin has already inputted the address. As the location blinks on the large screen, he meets Kono’s amused grin with a matching one of his own.

“Guess we know who’s going to check it out?”

It has been a long-running joke amongst their little family that any reason to leave HQ that results in being within a two block radius of Keoki’s Malasada Shack has Danny’s name written all over it. They turn to look at him, awaiting the usual ‘who’s going to drive?’ non-argument he will certainly have with Steve (a non-argument because Steve always wins) but neither of them have started yet, mainly because Danny, who always opens the foreplay in these instances, seems strangely reluctant.

“Listen, I know this is going to blow your minds,” he says, because they are all expecting him to speak and he is never one to disappoint, “because naturally I am a mind-blowing kinda guy but I’m gonna sit this one out.” Not that Danny needs any encouragement to keep talking, but the surprise on Kono’s face alone results in further verbosity.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t enjoy these situations which, let’s face it, usually result in me getting shot at, but I have got a _stack_ of paperwork to get through – you can thank me later,” he says, momentarily gesturing at Steve who is usually personally responsible for at least seventy percent of the additional write up for their cases given his propensity for blowing things up, “and it is getting perilously close to the weekend, one I am supposed to spend with my daughter, so as much as I love Keoki’s malasadas I’m gonna stay here and get stuff done unless anyone has an indisputable reason why it has to be my ass that hauls Cullen in here?”

Chin and Kono simultaneously shake their heads before all eyes turn to Steve, knowing final approval is his. Steve for his part has remained silent throughout Danny’s latest monologue. He knows the reference to Danny’s daughter will have sufficiently allayed any suspicions Kono or Chin may have had, but he is not fooled. Not that he doubts the supreme position Grace has in Danny’s life, but he has come to realise that she can be used as some kind of ‘get out of jail free’ card for times, like now, when he doesn’t want to tell the truth.

Steve knows, for instance, that Danny has already taken two lots of painkillers today despite the fact that he thinks no one was around to notice and knows therefore that Danny is reluctantly passing on both the possible adrenaline rush of taking down a perp and the malasadas because his knee is not up to any action should Damien Cullen decide he is not coming quietly, which is pretty much par for the course for anything their team gets involved in.

He okays Chin and Kono to apprehend their suspect and waits until they have gone before he walks straight into Danny’s office without knocking first - forever a fan of the surprise attack.

“It’s giving you trouble, huh?” he says without pre-amble and Danny’s fleeting expression tells him he knows he’s been made. He hides it quickly in a scowl, which is exactly what Steve is expecting him to do.

“Trouble? You know the only thing that gives me trouble around here is you, Steven,” Danny replies, leaning back in his chair, tenting his fingers and giving Steve a weary smile.

Steve does his ‘yeah, yeah, we’re not doing a _thing_ now’ face, effectively ruining any chance Danny has of annoying him into forgetting what he came here for.

“The knee,” he says, knowing if he spells it out, Danny cannot pretend to be so dense he can’t figure it out. “It’s obviously worse than it has been. Where’s your cane?”

Danny shrugs, uncharacteristically silent. Steve rolls his eyes and not for the first time thinks that trying to get something out of this man is like trying to retrieve a ball that has rolled under a particularly prickly bush.

“Is it here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, let’s start with an easier one; is it still on O’ahu?”

Danny fixes him with a look that prompts Steve to rethink his analogy: trying to get something out of Danny is like trying to retrieve a ball that has rolled under a particularly prickly bush _with a family of rabid porcupines living in it._

“What does your physical therapist say? You _are_ still attending, right?” Steve’s question holds a note of warning which only serves to intensify Danny’s irritation.

“Am I still attending? What kind of question is that? You think I sign myself out every other Tuesday to go _surfing_?” Steve opts for silence, knowing that if he gives Danny enough rope he’ll hang himself once he’s sufficiently pissed off. “Yes I’m still going, because I like to give someone other than you the opportunity to torture me once in a while and she says it’s fine, I’ve just gotta take it easy. Is that okay for you, _dad_?”

Steve nods, ignoring the icy blue daggers that are being aimed at him from behind the desk. “And how about your doctor? Have you been back to see him recently?”

Danny sighs, as if he is working out how to describe the experience of being partnered with Steve McGarrett to a particularly stupid person without being allowed to use the words ‘fucking crazy’ and ‘stroke-inducing’. Steve reads this hesitation correctly: Danny is doing a quick of assessment of which will cause the least damage: the truth or a lie.

“It’s not a difficult question, Danny.”

“Yes! Okay? I saw him three weeks ago.”

Steve presses on. “Did he suggest anything other than physical therapy? What about surgery? Didn’t he mention that when you first saw him?”

“He did but he doesn’t think it’s necessary now,” Danny snaps, scrubbing a hand through the blond bristles on his lower face. “He says the tear in the ACL will heal eventually if I stop fraternising with lunatics who consider a quiet day at the office to be one where they’ve only been shot at _once_ and haven’t dangled anyone off the side of a building for the simple reason that they couldn’t find anyone suitable to do it to. Does that sound like anyone you know? Funnily enough it’s exactly the same solution for my peptic ulcer and my migraines and...”

Steve raises his hands in a gesture of surrender that thankfully cuts off the tirade and accompanying hand waving mid-flow. “Okay, okay, Detective. So long as you’ve got things in hand.” Steve stands up and heads for the door. “I’ll call Kono and make sure she picks you up some malasadas.”

He waits a split second to observe Danny blinking at him in confusion as his partner tries to work out how he successfully defused the Steve-bomb without going anywhere near the red and blue wires and then closes the office door.

Aware Danny is still watching him, he waits until he sees him making a phone call before he walks through into his own office and opens the filing cabinet drawer where the personnel files are kept, finding Danny’s easily given there are only four of them in there. He locates the details of the doctor Danny went to over his injured knee and memorises the address, puts the file back and then quickly calls Kono for an update and to ensure the malasada order is placed.

With that done he grabs the keys to his truck, makes the _I’m going out – back later_ ’ gesture at Danny, who is still on the phone yet nods to show he has understood, and jogs down the stairs out to the parking lot.

Steve knows Danny can be a difficult son of a bitch at times but honestly thought he finally had a reasonable handle on dealing with his partner’s mercurial personality. He therefore finds himself experiencing a mix of annoyance and curiosity that Danny is attempting to deceive him about something – what, he isn’t sure of but he wants to get to the bottom of it soon, and, contrary to what Danny may think, without having threaten to break limbs.

When he arrives at Dr. Oh’s offices he is buzzed through into a comfortable waiting area and is idly flicking through a copy of National Geographic when the good doctor emerges from his room. Steve stands, introduces himself while showing the necessary credentials and they shake hands before the doctor shows him through into his treatment room where he asks what he can do for him once they are both seated.

“I need to speak to you about my partner,” Steve says, “Detective Danny Williams? You’ve treated him recently for a tear in his ACL.”

The doctor considers this for a moment before his eyes widen, partly in recognition of who they are talking about and mainly because he realises that _this_ is the lunatic partner who drives cars onto Chinese freighters.

“I’m sorry, Commander McGarrett, but I’m sure you understand that I am bound by patient confidentiality?”

Steve makes a face which Danny would undoubtedly have a name for if he’d been there to see it. He shelves what he’d _like_ to say next, instead opting for a calm appeal.

“Dr. Oh, Detective Williams is a member of the Governor’s Task Force and I am concerned that his performance is being hindered by this injury. In his current state he is a risk to himself and the rest of my team in the field and if he manages to get himself or anyone else killed then I will hold you personally responsible if I have to leave today without finding out what I want to know.” His expression softens somewhat when he continues. “Danny is also a friend, but he can be a stubborn pain in the ass and when I’ve asked him about it, I _know_ that there’s something he’s not telling me. I just want to help him.”

The doctor considers this for a moment and is amazed to find that the military’s man obvious concern for his friend sways his decision more than his fear that he may end up being tortured for the information. “Maybe if you tell me what Detective Williams has already told you?” he asks eventually, feeling this is less of a breach of trust than handing over the man’s medical file and pretending to water his plant while the other man goes through it.

Steve nods. “He told me he’d torn the ACL in his right leg and that you’d recommended rest, some anti-inflammatories and physical therapy. He eventually stopped using the cane but has continued with the physical therapy as far as I’m aware, but he still seems troubled by it, even more so recently. I asked him today if he’d been back to see you and he told me he had an appointment three weeks ago. I asked if there was anything else that you’d recommended but he said he just needs to take it easy at work and that surgery isn’t necessary.”

Steve realises that up until his final sentence Danny has been telling the truth but the subtle flicker in the doctor’s expression at this point has uncovered the lie.

“Well,” the doctor colours slightly as he recalls the conversation about Steve and his antics, “I did reiterate my original advice about the impact of his chosen career, but as for surgery, I’m afraid my advice was completely to the contrary.”

Steve frowns. “You recommended surgery?”

“Absolutely; in fact I explained to Detective Williams that he probably won’t see any further improvement in the injury without surgery now.”

There is silence while Steve processes this, unaware that the doctor is wondering if he should prescribe something for constipation. “And what was Danny’s response?”

“In his words? _He doesn’t do surgery._ ”

Steve drives back to headquarters mentally plotting how to proceed now he is slightly better acquainted with the problem. He is still none the wiser about exactly why Danny does not ‘do’ surgery but at least he has something to work with. He calls Kono, who cheerfully informs him that they have Cullen safely in custody and Danny is in a somewhat better mood because the arrest took place in a manner that will not result in further burden to his poor ‘pending’ tray. Steve doesn’t doubt that the large bag of malasadas will have helped too.

His suspicions are confirmed when he reaches base and is greeted by the sight of Danny grinning while a microscopic scattering of crumbs rest upon his navy blue tie as he chats to Kono and Chin. His partner’s good mood makes it difficult for him to raise the issue of his knee or vent his annoyance that Danny lied to him about it and before long it is time for them all to pack up for the evening.

Kono leaves first in preparation for a catch up with an old academy friend; Chin goes fifteen minutes later with a quick wave and a ‘see you tomorrow’ before he disappears down the stairs. Steve, who has decided as the day wore on that he would approach the issue as a friend rather than Danny’s boss, hovers in the doorway as Danny powers down his computer and gives one last hateful look at the stack of paperwork beside it.

“You fancy going for a couple of beers?” he asks as he watches Danny stand and almost successfully stifle the wince as his stiffened knee protests at the movement. “I have my wallet and everything.”

“Wow. How could I say no?” Danny replies, playing along and pretending to look impressed. Steve nods and smiles, and together they head out into the warm evening.

Steve is good to his word and buys the Longboards. He listens patiently while Danny bitches about a whole host of things, from the weather (a firm favourite bitching topic) to the fact that he will lose a whole hour with Grace on Sunday because Rachel needs her home early. Never once in his litany of complaints does he mention his knee despite the fact that Steve sees him limping when he gets up to use the bathroom. Three rounds in and Steve feels it’s time to raise the issue in the hope that the beer buzz will have taken the edge off Danny’s anger, which is bound to surface when he knows that the outcome of his doctor’s appointment is now common knowledge.

Danny is coming back from the bathroom wearing the lazy smile of the happily inebriated when Steve looks up and for a moment he changes his mind about saying anything. The mood of the evening is light: one of relaxation and companionship and Steve is loathed to spoil it, however as usual he has underestimated his partner’s instincts and it is Danny that provides the opening he needs when he queries Steve’s insistence that he buys all the beers.

“So you wanna tell me what’s with all the generosity?” Danny says, making a grand sweeping gesture as if Steve has bought Longboards for the entire bar. “Are you dying?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Am I dying? And by that I am not including the many and varied ways you try to get me killed almost every day that I show up for work.”

“No, Danno. You’re not dying either.”

Danny nods, as if Steve’s confirmation has made all the difference.

“So what gives then? Not that it’s not appreciated or, I might add, long overdue.”

Steve briefly feigns looking wounded before falling into seriousness once more. “Yeah well, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, Steven,” Danny says, throwing his hands up in apparent exasperation. “You think I’m that kinda girl - a few drinks and I’m anybody’s? What about dinner and dancing, huh? You know, proper wooing? Honestly... do they teach you nothing in the army?”

“The navy,” Steve replies, the response out of his mouth so fast he belatedly realises it’s become as reflexive as blinking. “And if you want to dance then knock yourself out, but are you sure your knee’s up to it?” Before Danny can respond, he pushes on. “I’ve spoken to your doctor. He told me he recommended surgery last time you saw him.”

He stops speaking and awaits the start of Danny’s completely justified anger but the other man huffs out a soft laugh and shakes his head before taking a long swig of beer.

“What?” Steve asks, confused.

“I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to confess.” Danny looks at him and shakes his head again but he still doesn’t seem angry. “As soon as we had that ‘chat’ earlier on,” he says making quote marks with his fingers – no mean feat with a beer bottle in one hand – “I called Dr. Oh’s office and told them that you’d probably be in touch and it was okay for him to tell you what you wanted to know if it looked like you were making your constipated face.” Danny looks at Steve. “You made your constipated face, didn’t you?”

Steve’s frown is deep as he ignores Danny’s last question. “Why?” he asks.

“He asks why,” Danny rolls his eyes. “Are you nuts? It’s ‘cause I _know_ you, Steve and I knew that you wouldn’t stop until you found out every last detail, whether I chose to tell you or not and quite frankly I didn’t think Dr. Oh, the nice guy that he is, needed your special brand of sulking when he mentioned the words ‘patient confidentiality’ and he _certainly_ didn’t need dangling off a roof-”

“Jesus, Danny, will you ever let the roof thing lie?”

“No, because letting it lie would feel like I was condoning the crazy shit you do and I absolutely, _definitely_ will never do that.”

“Trust me, that message does _not_ need reiterating,” Steve growls before he stops himself. This is starting to go badly when, ironically, given what he had to confess, it had been going incredibly well. He takes a deep breath and starts again.

“Danny, I’m really sorry I went behind your back but it’s only because you won’t talk to me about it.” He contemplates sharing his prickly bush analogy but decides that, as ingenious as it is, it will probably make things worse and lose him any ground he has gained with his apology. “So what’s up with having the surgery, huh?” he asks quietly.

Danny meets his gaze with a look of resignation before they both turn at a raucous explosion of laughter from the table behind them. “Not here, yeah?”

They get a cab back to Steve’s place. It isn’t too far to walk but when Steve suggests a taxi, Danny doesn’t argue, giving Steve further confirmation that his partner’s knee is not a happy camper. Initially the silence is awkward until a building they pass prompts some small talk about where Danny can take Grace this weekend.

When they reach the McGarrett family home, Danny goes out onto the lanai while Steve grabs them a couple of beers out of the refrigerator. He opens them and walks outside, handing one to Danny who nods his thanks before returning to stare at the ocean. They sit like that for a moment until Danny breaks the silence.

“I know I need that surgery,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically flat and his hands still. “Trust me, you can’t tell me anything that I haven’t already told myself.”

“Be honest, Danny, how bad is your knee?”

Danny looks at him. “Honestly? Really fucking bad.”

For a second Steve hates Danny for not telling him but hates himself more for not realising sooner. He thinks back over the last few weeks, the cases they have worked and, more specifically, the physical exertion they have all been subjected to and experiences a flare of anger that Danny has carried on without saying anything. His anger is tempered somewhat by irony; Danny who complains about anythingand everything as if it is an Olympic sport has kept silent on the one subject that really matters.

“Jesus, Danny,” he says eventually. “How long were you gonna just carry on pretending everything was okay?”

Danny shrugs and offers him a lopsided grin. “I dunno. I figured you’d probably get me killed before it really became a problem.”

Steve makes his ‘that’s not even funny’ face which Danny has been toying with the name for ever since it put in its first appearance, his current favourite being _Acid Reflux Face._ “You could have got yourself hurt,” he says and the humour drains out of Danny’s expression.

“Or you, or Kono or Chin or a civilian,” he acknowledges and Steve knows Danny will have thought of nothing else since the injury started to get worse rather than better. “Which is why I know I gotta have the surgery... it’s just...”

It’s a rare occasion when Danny Williams seems to be stuck for words and Steve feels weirdly honoured to be one of the few to witness it. He stays quiet though, knowing Danny will not remain stumped for long.

“It’s just... _shit_ , I swear to God, McGarrett if you laugh I’ll break your face. It’s the anaesthetic, okay? I don’t wanna be knocked out.”

Steve frowns in confusion, trying to figure out if this is anything close to what he was expecting Danny to say when he first realised he was hiding something. “You don’t wanna be knocked out?” he repeats sounding baffled.

“No, I don’t.” Now the usual Danny is back, his hands waving and slicing and chopping in perfect synchronisation with the intonation in his voice. “I don’t wanna be knocked out because... well, because I’m worried I might not wake up.”

“Let me guess: this is another of those things that you’re rationally concerned about?”

Danny gives him a look like he’s a complete idiot. “No, I’m fucking terrified. There’s nothing rational about it.”

“Danny,” Steve says using his best reasonable tone. “People have general anaesthetics every day-”

“And some people wrestle bears every day but it does _not_ mean it’s something I personally want to try!”

Steve’s reply is cut off by Danny’s ‘ _do NOT question the validity of my examples_ ’ glare, which he has cultivated in direct response to Steve’s _‘what the fuck are you going on about?’_ face.

“Look, I would _love_ to have your freaky-ass, not scared of anything mentality but I _don’t_ because I’m not a goddamned ninja who was in the navy, eating nails and broken glass for breakfast, okay?”

Steve’s about to say ‘navy’ before he realises that Danny is not goading him for once. “Hey,” he says holding his hands out in a gesture of placation, “I’m not making light of your fear, brah.” When Danny visibly seems to deflate a little, he adds: “Broken glass? Really? You’ve got some seriously weird ideas about what being in the navy involves, Danno.”

This time Danny doesn’t bother with the glare, instead downing the last of his beer. “My point still stands,” he says grumpily as Steve goes inside to get them fresh bottles.

“So have you never had a general, even as a child?” Steve asks as he takes his seat again. He’s barely finished the question when Danny is shaking his head vehemently.

“Never. Seriously, you think my no puking record is impressive? Try thirty five years and counting for never having been knocked out.” Danny considers this for a second. “In the medical sense, anyway.”

“I have,” Steve says, “three times in fact,” then, in response to Danny’s raised eyebrow: “What? You think I’d have an operation without one?”

“I dunno, what with you being Super SEAL...”

“Yeah well, it’s no big deal. They stick a needle in, you go to sleep and when you wake up it’s all over.”

Danny rolls his eyes and snorts. “Yeah, just because I’ve never _had_ an op doesn’t mean I don’t know how they work, Steven but you seem to have missed the bit where my issue is the whole ‘ _not waking up_ ’ part.” He sighs and Steve realises how much this is troubling him. “I mean if, heaven forbid, something happens to me when I’m acting as your backup and I’m all bleeding and half dead and they wheel me into surgery _because it’s gonna save my life_ then I could probably deal with that ‘cause I’d be dying and pretty out of it anyway, but risking my life for a bit of knee pain or any other non-essential surgery? It doesn’t seem worth it.”

Steve wonders if he should point out two things: one, that ‘a bit of knee pain’ seems an understatement that he’s sure Danny himself would (reluctantly) agree with; and two, they all risk their lives on a daily basis in their job, which he’s sure Danny has conveniently forgotten for the sake of this argument. He decides against it, but then realises he’s not sure what to say instead. He knows as Danny’s boss he could threaten to kick him out of Five-0 if he doesn’t have the surgery but even the thought of it feels distasteful when he thinks how far their relationship has come since their first fractious meeting in this very house.

“Listen,” he says eventually, “it’s up to you, man and if you decide to go ahead I can insist on being in the theatre to make sure the surgeons take good care of you.”

Danny’s face indicates he’s picturing this scene before he laughs. “You know, I think they’d probably do a better job if they weren’t worrying about being blown up or fed to some sharks so I’ll pass on that but I appreciate the sentiment though.”

Steve nods, undeterred. “Okay but if you want someone to be with you after, while you’re still out I mean, then I’ll stay with you, Danno. I won’t leave your side until you wake up, I promise.”

He spies a look of gratitude on Danny’s face, which is trying to conceal itself behind his ‘look, it’s no big deal’ nonchalance and failing miserably. Steve wonders if Danny was expecting him to make the surgery an order or get out of Five-0 and if he’s honest, he’s a little hurt that Danny might think he’d do that. He’s wondering what they can do if his partner decides against the surgery when Danny’s voice cuts into his thoughts.

“I’ll have the surgery,” Danny says, then swallows before he continues, his hand waving in a half-hearted attempt at humour, “and if you wanna hold my hand or whatever... then I guess it’s okay with me.”

H50H50H50

In the morning Danny isn’t sure whether he feels better or worse now Steve knows. He showers and dresses then walks through into the kitchen, contemplating whether he should hold off on breakfast so they have an excuse to stop somewhere where he can get real food instead of whatever he can drum up from his meagre supplies. He stops suddenly at the sight of his small table, cleared of the usual detritus and now home to several objects that were most _definitely_ not there last night when he got home. He studies them for a moment before dimly becoming aware that his cell phone is vibrating at his hip.

“McGarrett,” he says in lieu of a greeting as he answers it. “Can I take it you’re responsible for this Santa Claus thing that’s going on in my kitchen?”

“Who else did you think it would be?” Steve responds flatly in yet another sparkling demonstration of his social skills.

As he listens to Steve’s reply his hand moves over each of the objects in turn: a knee brace, a new cane and a vial of painkillers that he knows if he looks them up, will be ridiculously strong.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Danny says, mentally kicking himself that it’s taken this long for the penny to drop. “You _broke into my apartment_ to leave this stuff here?”

“Yeah,” comes the reply and he can _feel_ Steve grinning at the other end of the line like the crazy fucker he really is. “You really shouldn’t leave your kitchen window open, you know.”

“Oh my God, Steve are you _insane_? What if I’d woken up and shot you, huh?”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve replies with a faith Danny’s certain he shouldn’t have, especially after all the beers they drank last night. “Do you know you make the weirdest faces when you sleep?”

Danny makes another one right then. “Okay, just stop right there because that’s really fucking creepy, McGarrett and we are going to have _serious_ words about this when we get into the office. I’d have thought even you would have come across the term ‘breaking and entering’, which is an actual goddamned _criminal offense_ but clearly not.” He pauses, shaking his head in disbelief about what he will say next. “But, you know, thanks...”

He looks back at the items and, despite his indignation at the way they came into his possession, he feels strangely touched by the gesture because up until the point he joined Five-0 _no one_ on this godforsaken island with the exception of his daughter had shown any sign that they really cared about _him_ , beyond his abilities as a work partner or as a father.

Sure he’d been close to Meka but it wasn’t _this_ and Rachel, well Rachel’s level of care for him only extends as far as the correlation between his well-being and their daughter’s happiness. He’s not sure what all this says about him and Steve and their relationship but whatever it is he’s contemplating therapy and yet infinitely grateful for it all at the same time.

“You’re welcome, Danno,” Steve replies, sounding similarly surprised that he isn’t getting his ear chewed off at this point. “And I want to see every single one of them on or about your person when you pick me up.”

“Ay ay, Captain,” he responds with a salute even though the other man can’t see it.

Danny is somewhat reluctant about the brace but knows if he lies and says he’s wearing it when he isn’t Steve will probably point a gun at him until he proves otherwise. He is pleasantly surprised when he fits it to discover it is lightweight and comfortable and, most importantly, does not make him look as if he is auditioning for Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks sketch when he attempts to move in it. The drugs, the brace and the cane make him feel a million times better than he has in recent weeks; scratch that, he feels _awesome_ although he suspects that‘s mainly down to the drugs and makes a mental note to ask Steve where the fuck he got them from.

He drives over to Steve’s place in a ritual that is as fixed as it is pointless given that he has to drive out of his way to get there and Steve has a perfectly good vehicle of his own. Steve bounds out of the house when he hears the Camaro’s engine and shoos Danny into the passenger seat in yet another custom that Danny has become familiar, if not overly thrilled, with. Somewhere deep inside he’s still royally pissed that Steve broke into his apartment but the painkillers betray him and paint a goofy smile on his face that he finds he cannot shift.

He knows Steve is smirking and normally this would result in him wanting to punch the expression off his partner’s face if his verbal attacks couldn’t remove it but today he just sits back and watches the traffic whizzing by as Steve drives as if they are trying to outrun a tornado, which, given how this island also seems to be conspiring to kill him, would not surprise him in the least if they were.

“Hey, brah,” Kono greets him when they arrive at HQ and she doesn’t comment on the reappearance of the cane so Danny figures she and Chin have already been primed by their fearless leader.

“He broke into my fucking apartment,” he replies even though part of his brain is telling him that the usual response to this greeting is ‘hi, Kono, how are you?’ Kono fails miserably at looking incensed on his behalf, her expression closer to amused.

“That’s our McGarrett,” she says, clapping him on the shoulder and heading for her office before she does anything _really_ life-endangering like laughing.

Danny rolls his eyes and heads for the sanctity of his office, closing his door in an effort to keep out the lunatics, at least for a short while.

H50H50H50

Steve looks up from the stack of case files on his desk to see Chin at his office door.

“Hey,” he says, beckoning him in. “What’s up?”

“I’ve just received some intel about Hesse. You want me to get the others?”

“No, don’t bother,” Steve says, shaking his head, “Kono’s just gone down to the ME’s office.”

Chin nods and then frowns suddenly. “Where’s Danny? I haven’t seen him this morning.”

Steve smirks. “He’s in his office currently cruising at an altitude of thirty thousand feet.”

“Ah,” Chin says knowingly, having been a recipient of the unidentified painkillers when he had come off his bike a couple of months ago. “Lucky guy.”

“So what have you got on Hesse?”

Chin explains how a small-time gangster that HPD regularly keeps an eye on has been creating a small ripple of interest by putting feelers out about securing new identity papers for ‘a friend of a friend’ who will need to leave the islands in the near future. Hesse’s name has previously been linked with him, so it’s definitely worth a look.

“Okay,” Steve says, feeling a hint of hope that his luck regarding Hesse might finally be about to change. “Liaise with HPD about setting up a stakeout of Kaeo’s house. We’ll coordinate. If they’ve got a problem with it, let me know.”

“I’m on it,” Chin says, which Steve briefly thinks is almost as catchy as _Book ‘em, Danno._

Once he’s gone, Steve decides to check on his second-in-command. Danny greets him with a frown as he steps into his office. He appears to have been making a concerted effort to work through the never-shrinking mountain of paperwork, with his weekend with Grace a matter of hours away. Steve feels a momentary pang of guilt about being responsible for both his partner’s workload and the trees that have been lost to the write-up of his many and varied antics. He makes a very early new year’s resolution not to blow so much stuff up. Or at least have the decency not to enjoy it so much.

“How’s the knee?”

Unexpectedly, Danny grins. “Steven, I gotta hand it to you, you _definitely_ know how to spoil a guy. When, of course, you’re not trying to get him killed.”

“Come on, Danny,” Steve says. “The way you talk you’d think I’m always doing crazy shit.”

“Only on days that end in ‘y’.”

Steve smiles at the confirmation that the drugs are still doing their thing. “Have you called your doctor about scheduling that surgery yet?”

Danny’s expression loses some of its humour. “You know, I think with these painkillers and the cane I might be okay...”

“Sure,” Steve says, turning sharply and heading for the door. “If you wanna go blind.” He fights down a smirk at the spluttering behind him.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” When he turns around, Danny’s face is screwed up so tightly his eyes have disappeared into tiny slits. “If I wanna go _what?”_

“The drugs,” Steve clarifies with a hand gesture, belatedly thinking that Danny’s mannerisms are starting to rub off on him. “If you take them for too long, you’ll go blind. But hey, that’s still better than a general anaesthetic, right?”

If it’s possible, Danny’s expression gets even more pinched. “You’re fucking sick, you know that?”

Steve moves back into the room, his hands spreading in a gesture of placation. “I’m kidding, Danny. You think I’d give you something dangerous? Give me a bit of credit, won’t you?”

Danny looks like he’s debating this before he sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll call now. Will that make you happy?”

“Ridiculously.”

Danny doesn’t even bother shooing him out of the office while he calls his doctor’s office and explains what it is he wants. Steve’s glad he stayed when Danny says “this afternoon? I’m afraid I can’t make it on such short notic-”

“Yes you can,” he says so firmly that Danny looks at him in surprise. He folds his arms across his chest and stares until Danny says, somewhat reluctantly into the phone: “Uh, you know, I think I might be able to rearrange my diary after all. Two o’clock? That would be fantastic, thank you.”

Steve can’t fail to hear the hint of sarcasm that has slipped into Danny’s normally impeccable manner that he uses with everyone that isn’t a criminal, his work partner or his ex-wife. He watches as Danny thanks the secretary and hangs up.

“Okay, I have an appointment this afternoon with the surgeon because, lucky for me, he has a cancellation. This of course is excellent news for you, because schadenfreude is clearly your middle name, but it does _not_ help me in terms of getting my work done so I can leave on time this evening to pick up my daughter.”

“Danny,” Steve says calmly as his partner pauses for breath. “I will _personally_ complete any paperwork you need me to do. I’ll even look up the proper legal terms and everything.”

His comment works in breaking Danny’s irritation so he figures he’ll try and capitalise on his success.

“So you need me to take you?” he asks innocently before the conversation moves elsewhere.

Danny shakes his head but it’s in disbelief rather than negation because he’s still smiling. “What? And when we get there you find some way to come into the appointment with me?”

Steve is about to protest when Danny waves his hand. “You can come, okay? I figure it’ll save time and pain for all concerned if you’re there to hear it for yourself.”

By the time Steve pulls up outside the Hawaii Medical Centre Danny is in full-on bitching mode. Steve thinks, and has said out loud, that Danny should have taken another dose of the painkillers he gave him but Danny continues to refuse, citing the need to appear more of a normal person and less of a space cadet at the appointment considering he is about to agree to being hacked into _for no good reason_.

Steve sensibly resists the urge to argue this point (again) and instead concentrates on getting them inside the building with the minimum of fuss. They wait for less than ten minutes, which unfortunately still feels closer to ten hours as it is spent listening to one of Danny’s seemingly endless lists about _why this is_ _not a good idea._ He almost kisses the secretary in relief when she calls Danny’s name and leads them through to the surgeon’s inner sanctum.

Introductions are made although Danny forgoes any explanation as to why a work colleague is sitting in the appointment with him. Steve can tell that despite his polite tone, Danny is nervous and as a result is wearing his distinctly unhappy face. The surgeon, a distinguished balding gentleman by the name of Dr. Bennett, begins to talk through the procedure but when the response he is getting can be best described as ‘luke warm’ Steve feels he needs to step in.

“Danny is a little... concerned about having a general anaesthetic.” He glances to his left for confirmation of the glare he is expecting, although Danny makes no attempt to contradict him. A brief look of comprehension passes across the surgeon’s face before he begins the skilful balancing act of offering reassurance without being patronising. Steve continues to watch Danny surreptitiously but it’s obvious he’s paying lip service to what the surgeon’s saying and he’s waiting for the moment when he can make his excuses and leave.

Eventually it reaches the point where some kind of response is expected from Danny. Steve watches as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair before fixing him with a look that Steve cannot identify and he almost wishes Danny would just go back to his unhappy face so at least he knows where he stands. Danny finally speaks in a tone that can only be described as reluctance with a soupçon of petulance thrown in for good measure. “So, uh... this all sounds _great_. When could you uh, you know, operate?”

The doctor smiles. “How does next week sound?”

 _Fucking terrible_ is what Steve knows Danny really wants to say, but instead he just nods and talk moves onto practicalities and pre-ops and such.

When they leave twenty minutes later, Danny is understandably quiet. They head out to his car, Steve consciously slowing his stride so that Danny doesn’t have to hurry to keep up but the man with the cane is limping as fast as he can manage, as if he has something to prove. Steve watches Danny out of the corner of his eye as he starts the engine and, after driving for a good five minutes in total silence, decides to say something for both their sakes, figuring that the lack of verbal output from Danny is so unnerving it may cause him to crash if he doesn’t.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Danny sighs. “No Steven, I don’t,” he says, then proceeds to anyway. “I know you think this whole thing is ridiculous, and I’m okay with that because you’re not frightened of anything-”

“Of course I’m frightened of something.”

He knows Danny is looking at him, and resists the urge to take his eyes off the road to confirm it.

“Oh yeah,” Danny says, “like what?”

Steve senses the challenge and thinks ‘ _shit_ ’ because this is not the kind of question he has a ready answer for and his hesitation will, in Danny’s eyes, serve to validate his point. He contemplates lying but knows Mr. ‘I Can Read People’ will call him out on it the minute he opens his mouth.

“Uh, I dunno off the top of my head but everyone’s scared of something, Danny.”

“Yeah well, I’m pretty sure ‘everyone’ would feel as pissed as I do at the prospect of facing the one thing that terrifies the crap out of them, don’t you?”

Steve is prepared to concede this point, certain that if he could remember what it is he’s scared of then he wouldn’t want to face it either.

“So what do you want to do? Cancel?” he asks. Since they’ve stopped at a set of lights he takes the opportunity to look at Danny, who is massaging his temples as if he has suddenly acquired an almighty headache.

“Yes, no. _Fuck,_ listen, Steve. I know what I _want_ to do and what I _need_ to do are two very different things. I’m not an idiot, okay?”

Steve is nodding emphatically before Danny has even finished because Danny may be many things, but an idiot isn’t one of them, and because he isn’t one either he knows there isn’t any point in continuing to push the issue.

“Well my offer still stands; if you want me there, I’m there.”

For a moment he thinks Danny isn’t going to respond until a barely audible ‘thank you’ brings the conversation to a proper close.

H50H50H50

To Steve’s surprise and relief, Danny doesn’t cancel the surgery. He doesn’t doubt Danny has come close on a few occasions, but the fact that he hasn’t taken that final step leads Steve to uphold his end of the bargain and work overtime providing moral support and distraction in the run-up to it.

Chin and Kono are sympathetic, but Steve recognises the look of relief on their faces when he delegates something to them that takes them out of Danny’s blast radius, even for just a couple of hours. Steve, however, has cultivated a super-human level of patience when it comes to his partner and so when Danny is ranting about why they never have any pencils and how _Kanehoalani_ is a _stupid_ last name, he takes it in his stride knowing this is all Danny-speak for _‘I’m fucking terrified, okay?’_

Despite the ongoing stakeout at Makai Kaeo’s place in which they hope to find evidence of Victor Hesse, Steve insists that Danny has his weekend with Grace. He also manages to convince Danny to come to his house once he has dropped Grace back at Rachel and Stan’s on Sunday night. Danny has made it thus far, and Steve has no intention of letting him go back to his crappy apartment to brood the night before his surgery. Danny obviously protests this arrangement, arguing that a weekend of Hannah Montana and listening to why Janie Davis’ sister is _so cool_ because she dyes her hair black leaves him ready for some alone-time, but as usual Steve gets his own way and Danny agrees to come over.

He further gets his own way when Danny tries to refuse the food he has made but Steve’s logic wins out when he reminds Danny that he has two hours left until he has to start fasting so he may as well get a meal and a couple of beers inside him before then. They sit down and eat, the meal interspersed by stilted conversation and Steve finds himself glad that this will all be over tomorrow so they can get back to their usual good-natured bitching at each other. He suggests Danny stays the night since they have an early start, but the offer is politely but firmly declined and Steve knows he has won enough battles this evening to risk pushing his luck for one final victory.

“Pick you up at seven?” he says, as Danny settles himself behind the wheel after stowing his cane in the passenger footwell. Danny gives him a quick nod, neither of them needing to clarify that _Danny_ will in fact be picking _Steve_ up in the morning in line with their usual nonsensical travel arrangements.

“Take it easy, Danno.” He pats the roof of the car and steps back, allowing Danny to pull away and quickly disappear into the distance, the Camaro’s brake lights flashing on briefly as he takes the corner.

H50H50H50

When Danny is back at the appointed hour, his demeanour is as tense as Steve has ever seen it. As he approaches the car he can see fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard he wonders if he’ll have to break them to get Danny out of the driver’s seat. On the back seat lies Danny’s overnight bag, which he has packed, on the doctor’s orders, in case there is any reason to extend his stay. Steve has assured him several times that this is standard procedure, but knows that Danny’s glass is resolutely half empty on this and wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Danny has also packed his last will and testament and instructions for his funeral alongside his toothbrush and a change of underwear.

Steve makes small talk as he drives, which Danny sporadically acknowledges, and only in monosyllables. He tells Danny that HPD are not happy about continuing to provide personnel for the stakeout at Makai Kaeo’s and he is reluctantly starting to think that despite the promising lead, this one may turn out to be a bust after all, a conclusion it pains him to admit.

They arrive and Steve is suddenly unsure of his place, but Danny shoots him a look that says ‘ _this is your fault, McGarrett so you damn well better be coming in here with me’_. He stands back as Danny checks himself in but sticks close to his side as they walk through the corridors while a nurse shows him to his room. With a pleasant but no nonsense smile, she asks Danny to change into the gown folded neatly on the bed as Dr. Bennett will be along to see him shortly. Steve watches Danny’s expression flicker with disgust as she fastens the mandatory hospital identity bracelet around his wrist, as if the flimsy plastic adornment is a handcuff that she will attach to the bed in order to prevent him leaving. When she leaves the room, Steve decides to take charge.

“Go put your ball gown on,” he says gesturing towards the bathroom, “and I’ll put your stuff away for you.”

Danny nods, grimacing as he picks up the indecent patterned covering. “Fine, but no looking at my legs. One glance and I’m filing a sexual harassment suit.”

Steve grins as the bathroom door closes and sets to work putting Danny’s few possessions he has brought with him into the drawers beside the bed. The door opens again a few minutes later.

“How do I look?” Danny says, making a face as he limps across the room and perches on the edge of the bed.

“Very nice. The colour really complements your eyes.”

Danny opens his mouth to retort but the door opens at that precise moment and the surgeon steps into the room, smiling as his eyes land on his patient before moving to Steve, who has taken up residency in the chair in the corner of the room.

“Detective Williams, Commander McGarrett,” the man says in greeting before turning his attention to the file in his hands. “Now, we’re here to sort out your ACL, right?”

“That’s the idea,” Danny replies, forcing a smile. “I probably know the answer already, but I gotta ask: there’s no chance you’ve developed some new fabulous non-surgical way to do that since last week, have you?”

The surgeon laughs politely. “I’m afraid not. Surgery is still your best bet but if it’s any consolation, I’ve had another look at your scans and I think we’ll achieve excellent results today; indeed, if you follow the rehabilitation programme that will be set out for you I think a return to full pre-injury function might be possible.”

Steve grins at Danny, who rolls his eyes at the realisation that Steve has already put himself in charge of his post-operative rehab, and he has precisely zero say in the matter. The surgeon asks if Danny has any more questions and when the reply is no, he takes his leave to prepare for the operation advising his patient that a nurse will be along soon to get things underway, with the anaesthetist coming soon after. Steve glances away from the departing doctor in time to see Danny run a hand through his hair. He can’t fail to notice that Danny’s hand is shaking as he does it.

“You okay?” he asks.

Danny’s face is a blank mask as he replies. “Oh yeah, I’m just peachy.”

Steve propels himself from the chair and comes to stand next to his partner, his hand coming to rest on Danny’s shoulder. “I’m here, Danno. I promised you I’d stay with you throughout and I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s waiting for a typical sarcastic Danny Williams response, which is usually unleashed for anything Danny scathingly deems too ‘caring-sharing’, but what he gets instead is a quick nod and a look that Steve has never seen in all the months he has known the man he strong-armed into being his partner. It’s a look Steve hopes he’ll never see again as he knows, despite the lack of cursing and arm waving, Danny is _freaking the fuck out_ and _damn_ , if the silence isn’t worse.

He sits down next to Danny on the bed, hesitates, and then starts moving his hand in concentric circles on the other man’s back as Danny breathes as if he’s trying to suck all the oxygen out the room. Steve knows it’s an attempt to hold it together but it seems to be having the opposite effect.

“It’s okay, Danno,” he soothes, telling himself that they’ll laugh about this one day. He hopes, anyway.

The nurse pokes her head around the door but it is Steve who looks up, his eyes attempting to communicate with her that all is not well as the Danny continues to focus on remembering to how to breathe like a normal person. His prayers are answered when she nods in understanding and excuses herself for a moment, despite the fact that she hasn’t actually stepped over the threshold yet. When she returns, she is carrying some pills and a cup of water.

“Hi, Danny. My name’s Laurie.” She pauses while Danny seems to slowly take in that he and Steve are no longer alone and her smile is warm and reassuring as she waits. “Dr. Bennett has said to give you these, then we can take your temperature and blood pressure.” She holds out the pills and the water. “They’re a mild sedative, which should help because I hear you’re not crazy about operations.”

Danny snorts quietly at the understatement and Steve is stupidly happy to see _any_ sign of Danny’s usual demeanour poking through the fear-induced stupor.

“They’re are a good idea, Danny,” he says, taking the items off the nurse and moving them directly into Danny’s personal space so that he has little choice but to take them off him. He is relieved when Danny doesn’t argue and with the pills swallowed, Steve finds he can also relax a little too. He steps back to give Laurie room to work as Danny pulls himself onto the bed and settles back against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut as if he is willing all this to go away.

The sedative will take a few minutes to kick in but Danny seems calmer, as if he has finally resigned himself to what is about to happen. Steve watches in silence as Laurie checks Danny’s vitals, all the time talking to her patient about what she is doing and why. She occasionally catches Steve’s eye as if she is checking how she’s doing and his opinion somehow counts, so he nods encouragingly whenever she looks over.

Once she’s done, Steve moves back to Danny’s side, smiling as he is fixed by blue eyes that are quickly glazing over. He remembers his own experiences under sedation, the feeling that everything is being taken care of and he could relax for once. He hopes Danny is deriving a similar sense of peace from the drugs.

“I was thinking,” he says. “When you’re firing on all cylinders again I’m gonna take you up to Ko’olau. My dad used to take Mary and me there when we were kids. The views are incredible.”

“Will I have to eat pineapple?”

Steve frowns, then laughs and thinks he should really encourage Danny to get off his face more often.

“Not unless you want to, Danno,” he replies fondly, turning around on the last word as the door opens and a tall, dark-skinned man steps into the room followed by a nurse who is pushing a trolley laden with equipment. The anaesthetist, Steve correctly deduces.

Danny glances over at the tray full of implements and groans. “Please tell me I don’t have to eat any pineapple,” he mutters.

The anaesthetist looks at Steve for an explanation, but gets nothing but an amused shrug of the shoulders. Steve, for his part, is too busy saving every detail of this moment in full HD quality to his memory for later, because Danny can be _merciless_ in his teasing so Steve will take any ammunition he can get for when it’s his turn to return fire.

“He’s from Jersey,” he answers eventually – as if that should explain everything – and in a way it _does_ because most of Danny’s issues with Hawaii fall into the neat yet simplistic category of ‘not being like Jersey’.

The nurse, who doesn’t seem unduly concerned by a conversation apparently made up of non-sequiturs, works with practised efficiency to set up the various machinery that will be monitoring Danny’s vitals throughout the procedure. Danny reacts with the acquiescence of the pleasantly drugged and Steve thinks they’re home free: that is until the anaesthetist approaches and begins to talk through putting Danny under – something he intends to do _right now._

“No, no, no,” Danny growls and Steve springs into action to be at his bedside.

“Hey, _hey_ , Danno. It’s me, okay?” he says, grabbing Danny’s wrist before he can start conducting the orchestra Danny-fashion. “I’m gonna be here the whole time, okay?”

Thankfully, this seems to register. “You promised, right?”

“Yeah, I promised, Danno.”

Steve continues to talk in low, soothing tones although it’s _at_ Danny rather than to him – anything to distract Danny from the needle that is being taped to the inside of his elbow once it has found its home within his vein. Steve ceases his monologue when the anaesthetist instructs Danny to count backwards from ten. Danny does as he’s asked, his eyes never leaving Steve’s face as he makes it all the way to six before he’s gone, and Steve finally – _finally_ – can breathe.

He rubs a hand across his face absently thinking he definitely had easier missions as a SEAL than this as he watches the medical staff make their final preparations. Then Danny is gone, wheeled away towards the operating theatre and the sharp, efficient slice of the scalpel. As she leaves, the nurse assures him with a smile that everything will be okay and he looks at her quizzically because did she not just see that it was Danny freaking out and not him? But then he realises as the door closes behind her that something in his own expression must have prompted that comment, and for the millionth time he wonders how and when the hell did Detective Danny Williams get under his skin without him noticing?

Steve also wonders if, in the final moments of consciousness, when it was too late – the drug already injected and working its way through his body - his partner was angry with him and if he should feel responsible since Danny probably wouldn’t be here but for him. But he can’t hang onto the guilt for long though; Danny is like no one he has ever met and, taking their personalities as the first in a long list of examples of why their partnership shouldn’t work, _it does work_ and there is no one in the world he would rather have watching his back than Danny.

He can therefore concede a certain selfishness to his actions which he’s not proud of, but he also knows that part of what connects him so strongly with Danny is that Danny is also _insanely_ dedicated to his job and has hated every cane-requiring, painkiller-taking moment since he aggravated the old injury and Steve knows with all certainty that Danny will thank him eventually for pushing him to have the surgery once this day is safely in the dim and distant past.

He checks his watch constantly in between feigning nonchalance when the nurse periodically comes into Danny’s room. He is contemplating putting on the TV as an alternative to clock-watching when his cell reminds him of its presence from the pocket of his cargo pants. He glances at the screen and hits answer.

“Chin? What’s up?”

“Steve. Kono’s just called. Someone’s just gone into Kaeo’s place.” There’s a pause and Steve realises what Chin is about to say even before he’s said it. “They think it might be Hesse.”

The adrenaline thrums in his veins at the mention of that name. Victor _fucking_ Hesse – the bastard that callously shot his old man at point blank range and for what? Something bigger than that stupid fucker anyway. He stands quickly and makes for the door.

“Okay, Chin. This could be our only chance to bring him in. Keep everyone back – I’ll be right there.” And then he stops as if someone has erected an invisible forcefield across the room’s entrance. He knows from the constant watch checking that Danny’s surgery will almost be over and _fuck_ he promised he’d stay so that he’d be there when Danny woke up and if he leaves now...

He is so busy warring with himself that Chin says “Boss?” as if he’s unsure they’re even still connected.

“Shit,” Steve growls as he rubs a hand across his lower face, then: “Yeah, I’m still here.” He knows Danny would forgive him for leaving – hell, he’ll probably tear him a new one seven ways from Sunday when he finds out he didn’t go but he _can’t_ walk out because if he goes now, then no matter what Danny says to the contrary, there’ll always be a part of him that thinks Steve’s word doesn’t count for shit and is only good until something better comes along and for reasons Steve can’t quite put words to, that _fucking matters._

“Chin, scratch that,” he says as he turns away from the door in case his legs decide to disregard the direct order from his brain that says they’re staying put. “I need you and Kono to take care of it. I... I gotta stay at the hospital.”

“Is Danny okay?” Chin asks, obviously concerned that he’s missing something.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. He’s still in surgery but I.. I uh...” It sounds ridiculous to say _I promised a grown man I wouldn’t leave him_ but Chin, wise and perceptive as always, senses the unspoken words in Steve’s hesitation and comes to his rescue.

“Leave it with us, boss. I’ll phone you when it’s time to start celebrating.”

“Thanks, Chin and be careful.”

“Roger that. Give our best to Danny when he wakes up.”

Ending the call, Steve flops into the visitor’s chair, the adrenaline dissipating along with the energy needed to remain standing. His chance – possibly best and only – to capture Hesse and he is turning it down to sit and stare at the pale pastel walls of the Hawaii Medical Centre. He realises something else in that instant: not only has he reconciled himself to having a partner he cares strongly about but that he has a _team_ whom he trusts and whose abilities and dedication he believes in so resolutely he will entrust them with the single most important case he’ll ever work. They’ve used the word _ohana_ before to describe what they have at Five-0, but never has it resonated more than it does now for Steve. They _are_ family.

He’s still smiling at the thought when Laurie the nurse appears again wearing a similar expression of her own.

“Surgery’s over,” she announces cheerily. “We’ll be bringing Danny back shortly so you can sit with him.”

“That’s great. Did it go as planned?”

“Perfectly, although Dr. Bennett will be along later to give Danny all the details.”

He nods his thanks, stands then sits down again, contemplates calling Chin for an update even though he knows that if there was anything to tell he would have heard by now. Eventually he hears the rattle of a gurney and now he does stand as Danny is returned to him although it’s still a Danny far too quiet for his liking, and _damn_ he thought he’d never hear himself saying _that_.

He watches as the nurses complete their post-operative procedures and then he is alone with Danny, who Steve absently thinks looks much younger when he isn’t frowning.

Another half an hour passes before Danny starts moving almost imperceptibly, indicating his gradual return to the land of the living. Steve moves from his seat in the corner but stays silent until blue eyes eventually flicker open and the frown, and with it Danny, returns.

“Hey,” Steve says gently, a broad smile on his face. “Good to have you back, man.”

He watches Danny blink a couple more times before he swallows hard in an attempt to lubricate his voice into something usable. The minute he opens his mouth to speak, Steve knows Danny is _definately_ back. “Please God, tell me I didn’t die on the operating table,” he growls, “because, trust me, I know I specifically requested no Steve McGarretts in Heaven.”

Steve laughs, too pleased to have Danny back to feign hurt at the insult. “Oh yeah? And who says you’re getting into Heaven, Danno?”

Danny makes his ‘don’t be ridiculous’ face, which, in fairness, Steve thinks Danny uses so often it should just be called ‘his face’.

“Are you nuts?” Danny snorts, incredulous, “Anything other than the penthouse and I’ll be demanding a re-count. Putting up with you and your crazy shit, that’s a sainthood right there.”

“Yeah well, I’ll be sure to write you a reference,” Steve replies as he hooks the chair and pulls it across the room so he can sit down closer to the bed. “So, how you feeling?”

“Not bad,” Danny says, his voice still thick with lack of use. “The fact that I survived is a huge plus as I’m sure you’re aware and I actually feel okay, although my awesome detective skills put that down to good drugs... unless there was a change of plan and they just hacked the thing off because I can’t feel anything down there.”

Steve makes a pretence at checking even though he has already studied Danny’s knee, which is locked into a surgical brace with a patch of gauze covering the site of the incision.

“Nope it’s still there and that’ll be the nerve block they did to help with pain relief. The nurse says your surgeon will come give you all the details but it’s looking good.”

“Why thank you, Doctor McGarrett. Your opinion is duly noted,” Danny replies with a wry smile.

“So was it as bad as you thought?”

Danny seems to ponder this for a moment and Steve knows he will be recalling his near-meltdown before the nurse brought him the sedative. He knows he’s hit the jackpot when Danny rolls his eyes.

“Is there an answer I can give that won’t result in you making fun of me?”

Steve attempts to look wounded, although there’s a hint of amusement there too. “What kind of person do you think I am, Danny?”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because I’m looking forward to things getting back to normal, that’s all. Chin and Kono will be too. They send their best, by the way.”

“Yeah...” Danny concedes, “I guess I haven’t been much fun to work with _recently_ , and I stress recently because other than this last week I am the very _quintessence_ of good fun.”

“Speaking of good fun,” Steve says, grinning as he leans back in the chair, his fingers laced behind his head, “we’re gonna have such a _blast_ carrying out your physical therapy programme. I’ve got loads of good ideas.”

Danny huffs as he runs a hand across his hair. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”

There’s a companionable silence broken only when Steve’s phone starts to ring. He sees it’s Chin and answers it before he can explain to Danny why he’s gone from relaxed to tense in half a second flat without passing ‘Go’ and collecting two hundred dollars.

“Talk to me, Chin.”

“You can relax, boss. We’ve got Hesse in custody. The paperwork’s in hand so there’s nothing for you to do.”

Steve huffs out a noise which is part exhalation, half laugh. “Chin, you’ve made my day. Tell Kono the Longboards are on me.”

He finishes up the call to be met by Danny’s raised eyebrow.

“Something that might interest me, Steven?” he asks, having been privy only to Steve’s half of the short conversation.

Steve grins, knowing his expression is bordering on what could only be described as ‘shit-eating’.

“We got Hesse.”

“What? _When_?”

Still grinning. “While you were sleeping, princess.”

Danny makes a face and Steve can practically hear the gears turning as he tries to figure out what he’s missing, _the perceptive bastard_.

“Wait, wait, wait... you had a stakeout that looked a complete bust several hours ago. What happened?”

“Chin called while you were in surgery to say they thought they’d ID’d Hesse going into Kaeo’s place.” He shrugs casually, as if they haven’t spent months looking for the arrogant dickhead. “They got him.”

“Well naturally I am _thrilled_ ,” Danny says although he’s still frowning, “but I’m still a little sketchy as to why the hell you’re sitting here playing nursemaid and not _personally_ escorting him to Halawa Correctional Facility with one of your big, manly toes up his ass?”

Steve smiles, knows Danny wouldn’t be Danny if he didn’t create an argument where there doesn’t need to be one. “I made a promise, Danno. I said I’d stay with you and that’s what I’m doing.”

Danny rolls his eyes and his hand instinctively goes to massage his temple in a gesture of frustration that could only be more obvious if he said ‘ _fuck_ , this is frustrating’ at the same time. Steve knows Danny is now mentally playing through a whole host of scenarios - his least favourite will be the one where Hesse got away because Steve stayed at his bedside because _he’s a big fucking girl_ who’s scared of having a general anaesthetic.

“Danny,” he says firmly, breaking into his partner’s self-flagellation before he starts to get really creative. “I made the call, and it was the right one. I would never have brought you or Chin or Kono on board if I thought for _one minute_ any of you couldn’t handle what this job can throw at us. They had it in hand so I felt it was more important for me to keep the promise I made to my partner.”

He’s awaiting a smart remark but none is forthcoming. Danny’s expression is one of genuine gratitude and, Steve is both touched and amused to see, a trace of disbelief that someone would do something like that for _him._ He doesn’t need to tell Danny how important their relationship has become to him because Danny knows he has been weighed against Steve’s satisfaction at personally apprehending Hesse and come out the victor and if that doesn’t say it, he doesn’t know what would. He also knows that despite Danny’s joking and likely denial if ever asked, the feeling is entirely mutual.

“Steve... I dunno what to say. I mean, I uh...”

“You’re welcome, Danno,” Steve says simply, coming to his rescue in a way that he knows Danny will be mentally thanking him for.

They lapse back into contented silence for a moment.

“Hey, Danno?”

“Yeah?”

“Want me to tell you about the weird faces you make when you’re unconscious?”

“What?! _No!_ ”

 

 **The End**


End file.
